Running Numb
by masqueradingHEART
Summary: The life and time of Sirius Black. He's sixteen years old and finally fed up. Follow him as he finally loses his cool, breaks down, runs away, breaks down again, makes it to his friend's, and break down one last time.
1. Chapter 1

**Discaimer!** I'll make this short and sweet. I wish I was JKR, but I'm not. She owns everything, I own a crappy laptop.

* * *

_i'm tired of being what you want me to be __  
__feeling so faithless, lost under the surface __  
__don't know what you're expecting of me __  
__put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_

As usual, the dinner table was silent. The only sounds were the clanking of silverware on plates and the occasional scolding of 'sit up', 'don't slouch', or 'close your mouth when you chew'. The Black family usually ate in silence. About halfway throughout the meal, Orion and Wallburga would comment on their days, but other than that it was mostly quiet. Every now and then the two parents would criticize some muggleborn at his work or some blood traitor family they knew – usually just to get a rouse out of their eldest son. After six years of it, however, Sirius Black has become able to drown it out and just ignore it.

It still gets under his skin, he couldn't lie about that. Especially when his parents would bring up his friends (one a blood traitor, one a half-blood, and the other just a Pettigrew), He would clench his fist underneath the table, but otherwise he would remain calm – his face just a stoic feature. After years of practice, he has been able to keep himself void of any emotions. The slightest of inclination that they have ticked him off could send his parents into hour-long rants about how worthless his friends are and how much better he is than them and how he should act it. But if he didn't show any sign that he had even heard, they would go into hour-long rants about how worthless of a scum he was and how ungrateful and spoiled he was for not listening. It was much easier just to nod his head and act like he was agreeing with every word that they said and let them think that he was going to really change his ways this time.

"How was your day?" Wallburga started the conversation with, after placing her fork down and patting her mouth gently with her cloth napkin, the question directed at her hard-faced husband.

Orion followed suit and also placed down his fork and knife he was using to cut the under-cooked chicken his wife had cooked (using magic, of course; any sort of household chore without it was just simply too muggle). Taking a sip from his wine before answering, he settled into telling his story of the day. That was about the time Sirius drowned out the conversation, as he usually did. He had trained himself to pick up certain key words (mudblood, traitor, one of his friends, the Dark Lord) that would cue in his participation in the conversation. Until then, he kept his eyes glued to his plate and continued eating. He really had no care in the world for what son of a bitch his father ruined the life of today.

His thoughts were locked in on what he was doing later that week – visiting James. Sirius often found himself wishing that he really had been born James' brother, as the Potters often pointed out on how they acted. He knew it sounded entirely childish, but truth be told, he really didn't care. He hated his family, absolutely despised them. They were nothing more than a bunch of cruel, disgusting pureblood maniacs. His cousin Andromeda and his Uncle Alphard were the only two out of the whole lot that he could stand. Andromeda was a wonderful, powerful witch who just so happened to marry a muggleborn. Sirius highly respected her. And his uncle was just an all-around good guy. He was a complete coward and acted as if he was just like any other regular Black most of the time, but when around Sirius or Andy, he was a completely different man. He was caring and kind and could care less about the whole blood type issue.

The Potters were a pureblood family, as well, but they could also care less about lineage. Mr. Potter was known for supporting muggle rights and Mrs. Potter was a kind hearted woman who actually knew how to cook with or without magic. Her cooking was honestly the best Sirius had ever tasted. Even James tended to get homesick when at Hogwarts (which was known for having some of the best food) for some of his mother's home-cooked meals. Wallburga Black couldn't even pour a bowl of cereal correctly.

"…mudblood thought he was higher than me, can you believe that?" Sirius' father was saying.

His mother made a tsking sound with her tongue. "Absolutely unacceptable." She cut a piece of lettuce with her knife and for. "I don't know how the minister allows them in the Ministry like that. He should be taken out of office immediately." She put the lettuce in her mouth, eating it dry. "These mudbloods are infecting our lives more and more every day." Cut another piece of lettuce. "They should be executed for stealing magic the way they are." Chewed and swallowed that piece. "Absolutely unacceptable." Took a drink.

Sirius' hand was clenched tightly underneath the table, away from his parents' and nosy little brother's eyes. His face was stern and he hadn't moved a muscle in it, certainly much to his immediate family's dismay. His eyes were still focused intently on his horrid meal. He put a piece of chicken in his mouth and chewed it quickly in order to distract himself and calm himself down.

As usual, his younger brother decided it was time to make a move. It was as if his entire life revolved around making Sirius' life hell. The more his brother messed up, the more praise Regulus got. "Hey, Sirius, aren't you friends with a mudblood?" He said collectively across the table.

Sirius looked up at his brother as if he just realized that he was there. He shrugged one shoulder before continuing with his meal, choosing not to respond. The subject was far from dropped though and Sirius made a mental note to kill his brother after the meal was finally over.

"Is this true?" His mother questioned him, placing her fork down noisily. Even though he wasn't looking at her, he could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face and knew that her arms were crossed tightly across her chest. As if they'd never had this conversation before. Please, Sirius wanted to say, it was as if this was the only topic they ever spoke on. "Well?" She persisted when Sirius didn't answer right away.

Looking up at his cold-hearted mother, Sirius shrugged again. "Yes ma'am," he answered cordially, figuring it was best to get it over with as quickly as possible. It was bound to come anyway; better to get it over with now.

_can't you see that you're smothering me __  
__holding too tightly, afraid to lose control __  
__'cause everything that you thought i would be __  
__has fallen apart right in front of you_

His mother tsk'd again. "I don't know what it is with you," she started. "What's wrong with Lucius Malfoy and the Lestrange boys?" She uncrossed her arms and picked up her fork and knife again, this time going for the chicken. "They're perfectly grand boys."

"They don't go to Hogwarts anymore," Sirius responded with shortly as if that explained his seven years of avoiding them and associating himself with people his parents would never approve of. In reality, Malfoy and the Lestranges were complete brainwashed fools. They were all for the whole dark magic, muggleborn-killing thing.

Wallburga rolled her eyes, an action she usually would reprimand Sirius for making. "Well, what about Avery or Yaxley or Dolohov? What about Rosier? Aren't they all their age?"

Sirius shook his head. "Dolohov's Malfoy's age and Yaxley graduated two years ago." Stubborn. His mother rubbed her temples.

"Well, then there you go. Avery and Rosier. And is it so hard for you to make friends that aren't necessarily your age?" She questioned, exasperated with her son's hard-headed behavior.

"Actually, weren't you friends with that Fenwick guy and Dearborn?" Regulus decided to chime in again.

Sirius rolled his eyes at his brother. "I played Quidditch with Dearborn and I know Fenwick through him." He answered matter-of-factly. Caradoc Dearborn and Benjy Fenwick were actually good friends of Sirius', Benjy especially. Caradoc had been the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain for the three years that Sirius had played on the team. Fenwick was a good friend of Caradoc's, but Sirius had really met him on his own; whilst the Hufflepuff was tormenting some younger Slytherin boys (who had thought it funny to poke fun at the older Hufflepuff for some reason).

Sirius made a face at Regulus.

"Act your age," his father scolded him, speaking up for the first time since he told his story that prompted the rest of the conversation.

"Well, I'm sure you could have had some way of conversing with some more respectable people," his mother huffed. As if life would have been so much better for Sirius had he allowed for his parents to pick out his friends for him. As if life would be so much easier if he couldn't even control that part of his life. As if life would be simple and easy and good if Sirius hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, had followed in his parents' footsteps (but to a more severe degree), and had lived his life the way his parents wanted him to.

Oh, wait. It would.

But no one said life was supposed to be easy, now did they? I believe the saying goes "life's tough, get a helmet", not "life's easy, have a party".

Sirius closed his eyes briefly before opening them, taking a deep breath in the process in order to compose himself. "You're absolutely right, mother. I should have let you pick my friends for me, I'm sorry." It somewhat worked.

_every step that i take is another mistake to you _

Orion stood up abruptly. "You do not talk to your mother that way." He scolded, pushing his chair in. As his wife joined in suit, standing up as well, Orion called for Kreacher, their bitter and somewhat creepy house elf, to clear the table. "Dinner's over." Conversation over.

Sirius and Regulus stood up simultaneously and pushed their own chairs in before making their way out of the dining room. As they passed their parents, who had headed into the parlor, and made their way up the staircase, Sirius gave his younger brother a shove from behind. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He snapped quietly as they reached the top of the steps.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Regulus retorted with, louder, as he steadied himself and whipped around to face his brother.

Sirius glared at him. "You think you're so much better than me, just because they think of you as the better son," he shook his head and smirked before continuing. "But you know what, they still pay more attention to me than they do you."

"Shut it," Regulus glowered. "You're lying."

Sirius gave out a little laugh. "Oh, am I? You know it's true, Reg. Why do you think you use me as an excuse to get them to talk about you? Because you know that otherwise, they couldn't give a rat's ass about you."

A growl sounded from the back of the younger boy's throat. "I said, shut it."

Sirius rolled his eyes and took a step past his brother. "Why don't you just give it a rest, Reg? They don't care about you any more than they care about a bark of wood. You're fighting a losing battle trying to win over their affection. They don't care about anything but themselves."

Regulus snapped and grabbed his brother by the front of his shirt. "I said, shut it."

Sirius merely laughed in his face. "Oh, what are you going to do, Reg? I'm twice your size, you can't use magic. You going to tell mummy and daddy that I'm being mean to you? Go right ahead." Punch.

He wasn't expecting it. Regulus wasn't a very steady boy when it came to his emotions. He'd always been one to lose his anger easily, Sirius knew from being the one to cause it the most. But he hadn't ever fully come out and hit someone before. He was weak, could hardly take on Kreacher if forced to (not that they would, the two adore each other for some odd reason). But the unexpectedness of the punch caused Sirius to stagger backwards a step. He brought a hand to his lip. Blood.

"Well, well, Reggie. Looks like we're getting a little better at that right-hook," Sirius mocked. Never one to back down.

Stubborn.

Regulus' eyes resembled two pieces black, fiery coal. Sirius was pretty sure he'd never seen the younger boy so riled up before. Then again, the kid had always been pretty sensitive when it came to winning over his parents' attention. He was love-starved, being the younger son in such a highly esteemed family. Sirius was the rebel, the black sheep. He got all the attention. Orion and Wallburga were constantly forced to keep their elder son's behavior on the down low and therefore were forced to steer their attention more towards him than his brother. It had always been that way. Sirius getting the attention and the praise. When they were younger, even before he was sorted into Gryffindor, Sirius had been the heir and therefore had been the pride and joy, despite his somewhat rebellious nature to cause as much trouble as humanly possible. Regulus was quiet and slightly nerdy. He was timid and shy and could never stand up for himself. Back then, it was Sirius their parents wanted Regulus to be, not the other way around. Sirius would stand up for Regulus. Take on the older kids that would pick on him. It was Sirius who was the good son. The strong one.

That had always ticked Regulus off. Just because he was born two years later, he never quite got the same attention as his brother. He never had the love or the affection. He craved it.

"You don't know anything," Regulus said quietly. Voice low, eyes black, face hardened.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "I don't?" He sighed and shook his head. "Kid, when are you going to get it? If you would just quit trying to win over their hearts already…"

"What? I can be just like you? Well, that's all fine and dandy, but maybe I don't want to be like you." Cold. Hard. Bitter. Starved.

Sirius sighed again. "Whatever," he muttered and turned on his heel, heading towards his room where he would stay, writing letters to his friends, until the next day when he was forced downstairs for breakfast, only to return afterwards.

"You just want the spotlight on you," Regulus called after him, not quite done with the older boy. "You don't care about anyone else. You just want everything to yourself. Mum and dad are right – you're nothing more than a spoiled, useless brat, Sirius. You always have been, you always will be." Angry. Resentful.

Sirius stopped in his tracks. Pursed his lips. Turned to face his brother again. He shook his head and pointed a finger. "You don't know anything. You're naïve, spiteful. You fill your head up with all these wrong things that they tell you and your heart up with all this crap about no one caring. You're just an angry little boy inside, yearning for his mother, Regulus. Open your fucking eyes and see that you're never going to get her. You're never going to get your father, either. They don't care." Finality in his tone, Sirius turned again and walked a few more steps down the hall.

"I hate you." Childish. Hurtful.

_and i know I may end up failing, too __  
__but i know you were just like me __  
__with someone disappointed in you _  
Sirius shook his head and turned his head on an angle to catch a glimpse of his brother out of the corner of his eye. "Well, that's just fine and dandy," he said.

He had almost reached his door when he felt a slight breeze past his ear and heard a sudden crash against the wall just past his head. He turned his head to see glass shattered and dirt and flowers littering the floor. Turning around and gave his brother an incredulous look. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He shouted, walking quickly towards Regulus. Once reaching him, he grabbed him by the front of his shirt as had just been done to him by the same boy and lifted him in the air. "Are you insane? Are you stupid?" He thrust him against the wall before letting go of him, realizing what he was doing, and stepping back. He ran a hand through his hair. "Git," he mumbled under his breath.

Footsteps on the stairs, running. "What the hell is going on up here?" Father. Mother.

Orion and Wallburga reached the top of the staircase, looked at the scene in front of them, Sirius a foot away from his brother, exasperated, a broken flower pot in the background, a dent on the wall where it hit.

Sirius shook his head again and waved a hand at his brother. "The git's a downright fool. Lost his mind." He answered bitterly, glowering at Regulus.

Orion looked from one brother to the other, not quite sure what to make of the situation. All he knew was that it must've been caused by the elder one. The man sighed, ran a hand down his face. "I don't know what to do with you," he turned on his oldest son. "The problems you start in this household. I can't take it anymore, boy."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "He throws a fucking vase, and you can't take me anymore?"

"Well, I sure as hell know that you did something to provoke him! And you better watch your goddamn mouth, kid. So help me…"

"What? You going to curse me? Hex me into the next generation? Knock some sense into me? Go right ahead, I've had it all before." Fed up. Angry.

Punch.

Two in less than five minutes. He must be a record breaker or something. "Quit it with the mouth, boy."

Holding a hand to his mouth, wiping away more blood, Sirius glowered at his father. "Do it." He dared.

_i've become so numb, i can't feel you there __  
__become so tired, so much more aware __  
__i'm becoming this, all i want to do __  
__is be more like me, and be less like you_

It was Orion's turn to narrow his eyes. "I will," he threatened quietly, harshly.

Sirius spread his arms out. "Then go."

"Crucio!"

He fell to the ground, writhing in pain, refusing to scream. He bit his tongue. Hard. More blood. Pain. White-hot, never ending pain. It crept through every bone, muscle, and tissue of his body. His blood seemed to be on fire, boiling. He couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything.

His father had threatened to use this curse on him so many times, but never had until now. He'd been expecting it to come for years now, but it never had. It wasn't a surprise, though, that he had used it now. Sirius had learned a long time ago that surprises were overrated in the Black household.

The curse was lifted and Orion turned his back to his son, who lay gasping on the floor. "Get up," he spat out harshly, without facing him.

Sirius staggered to his feet, slowly and painfully. Even though the curse was lifted, he could still feel it. It wasn't as severe, but the pain was still there.

"I don't understand you, boy," Orion said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, finally turning around. He took a step forward so that he was just inches away from his oldest son. "Tell me. What is it that makes you the way you are?"

Sirius didn't answer, looked past his father.

"You're friends with that Potter kid. A half-blood. A Pettigrew, of all things. A mudblood, now, too?" He sighed. "Where did we go wrong with you? What did we ever do to make you such a disappointment to the world?"

Sirius clenched his teeth together, but otherwise made no other gesture. He could still taste the blood in his mouth from when he bit his tongue too hard.

"Look at me." Sirius flickered his eyes up to meet his father's. The man's face was turning red. Angry. "Answer me."

"I don't believe you," Sirius answered shortly.

Orion sighed and backed off a few steps. "Believe what? What is there to believe? The truth? That those mudbloods and blood traitors, those scum, that you call your friends serve no purpose to the world? What good do they bring, huh? Answer me."

"Courage, wisdom, integrity, friendship," Sirius responded, staring his father down. "Love, hope, faith. Reason."

Wallburga snorted. Regulus rolled his eyes. Orion shook his head. "Reason for what?" The latter questioned, mockingly.

"To get up every day and deal with your worthless shit of a family," Sirius answered coldly.

Punch.

This one was in his gut and Sirius couldn't help but let a groan escape his lips and bend over slightly. He'd been expecting it, but hadn't better prepared himself for it. His father grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his head up. Angry.

"You think you are so much better than this family. You think you're higher up than we are. But you're not, Sirius, you are so much less than us. You're weak; you won't make anything of your life. You'll be living on the streets by the time you're twenty-five, hungry, starved, and dying. Then where will your friends be? Nowhere. The mudbloods will be dead. The blood traitors diminished. Your little friends will be destroyed. Friendship gets you nowhere. You're weak if you think it will." Orion let go of the clump of hair he had grabbed and shoved his son back into the wall behind him. He took a step closer to him so that he was an inch away from him. Crouched down so that he was eye level to his slumped-over son. "Worthless." Punch.

Orion grabbed Sirius' chin to force him to look up from the floor. Shaking his head again, he grabbed the back of his shirt and directed him to the mirror hanging on the wall. "Look at yourself," he ordered. Beaten, bloody, bruised. Hurt. "Is that the face of someone who is strong? Is that the face of a boy who is loved? Do you have hope and faith now, Sirius? No. You're just sitting there scarred and bruised. And you know what? You brought it all on to yourself." Shove.

Sirius fell back against the wall.

"Your friends aren't going to help you with anything," Orion continued. "They're just as pathetic as you are. Get your head out of your arse." He turned on his heel and walked down the stairs, his wife following.

Sirius pushed himself up off the wall and headed back towards his room, past his brother. "I told you," Regulus said, just loud enough for Sirius to hear. The older boy didn't stop and closed the door to his room behind him. Punch.

The Gryffindor-clad walls shook slightly at the intensity of the punch.

Sick. Tired. Fed up.

Angry.

_i've become so numb, i can't feel you there_

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Mmkay, so review. I mean it. I'll hunt you down if you don't. Even if it's to tell me how much you absolutely despise this story, review. I love flames. They help me improve, so flame if you must, boost my confidence if you must. I love them both.

This story is probably only going to be two or three chapters. So, don't expect much. It's a short story. :


	2. Chapter 2

**disclaimer** nope, i still don't own anything. i really wish i did, though, because i would really happen to love to have sirius black as my pet for real. : oh, and i forgot to mention that the song last time was numb by linkin park. this time, it's runaway by linkin park. because they are gods and i love them. 33

**author's note** okay, so i'm really sorry for the delay here, but HERE IT IS! the long-awaited chapter two, and final installment, of Running Numb. So here you go folks. I hope you like it. :

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_graffiti decorations, underneath a sky of dust  
__a constant wave of tension_

The house quickly became silent again. After a few shouts from the father, the family finally settled down and retreated to their bedrooms. It was no surprise to the eldest son, as he paced the floor of his room in an attempt to calm his boiling blood, that his parents were so quick to forget the recent incident. It was practically an everyday occurrence for the family of four. Sirius would sit up in his room all day, flipping through magazines and newspapers and writing letters to his friends, while his father worked and his mother went out shopping or to tea with fellow stuck up rich women. Regulus would bond with the family's wretched house elf, Kreacher, or would attend some aimless parties with his pureblood friends. Then, at night when father and mother returned home and dinner was served, everything went downhill and the fight that had just happened on this particular night would be reenacted time and time again. Every night.

It got frustrating after a while, Sirius decided long ago. He was sick of having to defend his friends and his beliefs. Not that he ever wanted to abandon them, although there were times in his past where he had so nearly done that out of exhaustion and despair. He was just so fed up of having to. His parents should accept them, shouldn't they? Remus' parents accepted their son and he was a werewolf. And wasn't that so much worse than befriending a half-blood? Of course, Sirius' parents were nothing like Remus' parents. And, not to mention, they had no idea of Remus' condition, of which Sirius was entirely glad. Had Orion and Wallburga Black discovered the secret behind that weary, scarred boy, Sirius would never be allowed out of the house again and, more importantly, Remus would be ridiculed and shunned from the community faster than you can say 'werewolf'.

But take James Potter instead. He was a lazy, arrogant, fool of a boy who not only was spoiled to the point of no return but also made a point to unintentionally remind everyone he came in contact with of that fact. And did his parents dislike him? No, of course not. They were loving parents. James was a pureblood, as was Sirius. He was in Gryffindor, as was Sirius. He befriended blood traitors and muggleborns and half-bloods, as did Sirius. He was himself of a blood traitor, as was Sirius. But it was completely different when it came to the Potters. The Potters always have loved their son and always would. And despite the undeniable similarities between the two boys, Sirius' parents would never be like James'.

And it aggravated Sirius every day of his life to know this fact. He hated that his parents would never accept him unless he was a good-for-nothing, dark magic crazed, Dark Lord worshipping Slytherin scum. He hated that nothing he ever did would make them turn to him and beam and say with pride, rather than disgust, "that's my son". But there was nothing he could do about it, and he had long-since realized that fact. Sirius was who he was and nothing would change that. Not his parents, not his crazy younger brother, no one.

_on top of broken trust,  
__the lessons that you taught me,  
__i learned were never true_

Sirius was proud of who he was. He was proud, not to be Sirius Black per say, but to be what he had become, despite his wretched surname. He was strong and willing to fight to defend his friends' honor. He befriended muggleborns and would fight by their side any day. He wasn't ashamed of who he was now, he was ashamed of where he came from and the people who raised him.

And now, as he collapsed in a tired heap against the wall on his floor, Sirius looked up with pride at the red and gold colors that draped his walls and his bed. All the Gryffindor posters and muggle pictures that he had hung up on his wall, using spells that even his mother and father couldn't tear them down from, despite their many attempts to do so while Sirius was at school, were a symbol of that boy, man that he had become.

But he wasn't sure that he could spend one more day in this house, let alone two more summers before he was able to move out and get a place of his own. He was tired. He was tired of the fighting and the yelling and the hitting. He was tired of the crashes that resulted from broken glass and, like tonight, vases. He was tired of the broken relationships, in particular the one he ruined with his brother. He wasn't sure he could handle all the pain anymore. The numb stature that he had set up years ago was wearing out. It wouldn't be able to last any longer. He needed to get out of this house before he finally was destroyed.

He needed to run away.

_i wanna run away, never say goodbye  
__i wanna know the truth, instead of wondering why  
__i wanna know the answers, no more lies  
__i wanna shut the door, and open up my mind_

The thought came to him in a sudden wave that nearly knocked him over, had he not been sitting down. His head snapped up violently, but he didn't even notice the cracking sound in his neck. Jumping to his feet, he immediately began pacing again, deciding over what to bring and what to leave behind. He didn't stop and think about how foolish it was, how cowardly it was. He didn't question where he might go or what he would do when his parents found out and, undoubtedly, came looking for him. None of that mattered. All that he needed to know was what clothes and what school stuff he should bring with him, what would fit in his trunk and what he would have to say goodbye to forever.

His trunk was never unpacked. He never took his things out of his trunk when he came home for the summer, other than his clothes. Pulling it out from the corner of his room, he walked to his dresser, pulling clothes of the drawers and out from his cupboard and throwing them over his school books from the previous year. His personal belongings, photographs of his friends and his broom went next. Money. He dumped all of his savings into the trunk, closed off in its own little box. Shutting the lid, he snapped the trunk shut and locked it, pocketing the key. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He had enough to make it keep him on his feet for the rest of the summer, other than the whole food issue. But hopefully he'd have someplace to stay in which he could get easy access to food.

He would have exactly one and a half minutes, he reckoned, to make it out the door, depending on how much noise he made or who showed up to get in his way. Going out his window was out of the question; his parents made a point of shutting that permanently long ago after his many summer nights of sneaking out to meet his friends when he was grounded. Even had he been able to open the window, it'd be impossible to climb down the side of the house when there were no rain gutters by his window, especially with a heavy trunk.

A smile slipping onto his face involuntarily, Sirius realized for the very first time since the idea to leave had crossed his mind that he was finally going to be free, for good. No more of the fighting, no more of the screams and the shouts. He was gone tonight and he would never look back again.

No one could stop him now.

It was impossible to wait until it was late enough to make his escape. As the minutes passed by slowly, Sirius couldn't do anything but pace. He tried lying down on his bed, to catch a few hours of sleep, but he couldn't stay still for long. He was too anxious. He'd never been so scared and yet so exhilarated in his entire life. To leave the home he grew up in, had spent so many years and made so many memories in, didn't seem to be the hard part. What was going to be so difficult was leaving his brother behind. Although he would never admit it, for he had a hard time even admitting it to himself, he felt for his brother. Although the boy was a downright git most of the time, Sirius couldn't bear to imagine the life the boy would live after he left. The Black household was never one of compassion and Regulus so longed after what he would never get. Sirius knew where he was coming from, he too had wanted that love and empathy not too long ago. But Sirius had come to his senses where Regulus had not.

He was only fifteen years old. What kind of insane, cruel hearted brother left his fifteen year old younger brother all alone in a house full of bitter, distasteful people who would most certainly tear the boy to shreds? Sirius had always been the buffer – he was the one that acted out and was told to straighten up. He'd been the one who had protected his younger brother through his unappreciated behavior. He had been the one who got the punishment so his brother wouldn't have to. Even when they were kids, before Sirius had completely betrayed his family's morals, or lack thereof, whenever the two would goof off, because back then they actually got along famously, Sirius would step up and take the blame. He wouldn't dare to allow his parents to lay a hand on his baby brother.

And after the brothers went their separate ways, Sirius to the Gryffindors and Regulus to the Slytherins, it was still the elder that would take the heat. Although now it was for different reasoning than before, Sirius was the one that took the beatings, the verbal abuse. Regulus was the one who would sit back and look pretty while his brother was torn down day after day after day. But Sirius wouldn't want it any other way. Regulus wasn't strong. He would never be able to stand up to his parents. He never had been able to before. He had proven Sirius right time and time again about his weakness. He would never be strong enough.

Stopping in his pacing, Sirius collapsed on top of his trunk. He couldn't leave Regulus behind. It wasn't right. It would be the death of the kid, to live here all alone. Slowly, but surely, Orion and Wallburga would eat him alive. Their entire lives, Sirius and Regulus were constantly being compared to each other. When they were younger, it was "Regulus, why can't you toughen up and be more like Sirius". Now, it was "Sirius, be more respectable like your brother". Regulus was weak. He wouldn't be able to fight back. He'd allow the two to tear him apart. They'd do everything in their power to keep him from ending up like Sirius. And, slowly, it'd drive the kid to his breaking point. He wouldn't be able to make it. He would never have a chance.

Running his hands through his long, black hair, Sirius sighed in frustration, not too loud, he couldn't chance stirring anyone in this house. Not when he was so close. He was so close he could almost taste freedom. It was sweet, sweeter than anything he had ever tasted or felt before. He couldn't give it up, not now, not when he had tasted it. Not when it was so close in his grasp. He wasn't able to throw it all away now. Once you got a taste of freedom, it was so hard to give it up.

But for the sake of his brother, maybe he had to. Maybe he had to give up his selfish desire to escape this godforsaken home and stay. Maybe he could deal with his parents for a little bit longer just to protect the sanctity of his brother. He had to, he had to.

He had to get out.

Maybe Regulus wasn't strong enough because Sirius never gave him the chance to be. He had gone through his entire life being the older brother, the protector, the strong one so that Regulus wouldn't have to be. Maybe that was why the boy wasn't strong enough. Maybe some independence would do him some good. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But in his head, Sirius knew that that wasn't true. Regulus had had plenty of alone time with his parents before and proved that he wasn't ready for it. He couldn't deal with it. He would never be strong enough, never. And Sirius could not leave him behind. He could not ask his brother to be a sitting duck.

He had to stay.

He had to go.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, jumping up suddenly. His mind was made and, as the time finally came to make his escape, he was leaving.

Gripping the handle on his trunk, the sixteen year old boy walked the few steps to his door and slowly and quietly turned the doorknob. As the door creaked open, Sirius feared that the quiet noise would be enough to wake someone up, but no one and nothing stirred in the house. Despite the quiet night that was making absolutely no sound outside, Sirius' luck seemed to be with him as he took a last look at his room, turned out the light, shut the door and walked slowly and quietly down the hall.

This was it, this was it.

He past Regulus' door and refused to look at it. His heart was too consumed with grief he felt that the kid was already dead. For leaving the boy behind certainly meant that he would be greeted by the cold hands of death too soon. For a boy so quick to jump to the aid of the Dark Lord, as Regulus had proven to be time and time again when their parents were practically forcing Sirius to join his ranks, it would take no time at all for Regulus to go. And it killed Sirius inside that he couldn't open the bedroom door with that silly "Do Not Enter" sign and pull his brother out of bed, to take him with him. It was eating him inside that he couldn't save his brother, too, and that he was being so selfish as to only save himself. So he pushed himself forward and he walked past the door without taking a second to stop or to look. He couldn't handle it. He'd change his mind.

Walking past his the door to his parents' bedroom, Sirius didn't breathe. He was so quiet that he could just hear the sound of his father's snores. But he didn't dare to make any sign of relief. To think that he was out of the house safe and sound would certainly cause something terribly wrong to happen. He couldn't allow himself to think he was in the clearing, not yet.

The steps squealed as he climbed down them, being sure to muster all of his strength to carry his heavy trunk down as slowly as he could, although he wanted nothing more than to be able to set it down and roll it again. Breathing heavily, Sirius was filled with anxiety. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He was running away. Despite how cowardly it was, when he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw the front door in clear view, he didn't care how much he was acting like a scared pre-teen little boy. He was getting out of the house and he was going to be free.

He was almost to the door when he heard a tiny squeak to his right, the kitchen. Sirius froze and he could feel his heart drop like a weight into his gut, further down until it hit the floor.

"Master?" The tiny, croaking voice sounded, smug as though the damned, accursed house elf knew he had just ruined Sirius' chances at escape. Sirius closed his eyes, licked his lips, and turned to the elf, eyes black with anger, despair, and dying hope.

"Kreacher," he responded, teeth gritted, grip tightened on the handle of his trunk. No way was he going to let this stupid, ugly little house elf ruin this for him. He needed to get out, he had to leave. He suddenly regretted all of his years of torturing this elf. Had he been kinder to him, karma wouldn't feel the need to come rushing back to him at this precise moment to ruin his entire goddamn life. If Kreacher called his parents down, if he even so much as raised his voice… Sirius could already feel all his hope slipping through his fingers.

Kreacher took a few steps forward, determined to keep that smug look on his face. "Where is Master going?" He asked, tilting his ugly head to one side.

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Nowhere," he replied, an eyebrow raised as if to dare the elf to do something about it.

"It looks like Master is running away," Kreacher said, raising his voice. Sirius kept his breathing to a controlled rate, although his heartbeat was beating so fast that he was sure it was giving him away. He would bet that his parents could hear the blood pumping through his veins from all the way upstairs. "Why would Master run away? Does Master not like it here?" With every question his voice got louder and, sure enough, a few moments later, the sound of a door opening reached Sirius' ears and Kreacher looked more smug than ever.

Sirius felt like punching him. As the footsteps reached the stairs, Sirius made a break for it. Reaching the door and opening it, he could just hear Kreacher shriek "Master!" one last time before the door slammed shut. He didn't care how much noise he made. He needed to get as far away as possible before that front door opened in about twenty seconds.

He was running now, fishing his wand out of his pocket as his trunk flopped around noisily and unsteadily, not able to keep up with his running. Shouts sounded after him and he felt the whizzes of light speed past his head as the curses were shot after him. He could only hope that his parents woke up the neighbors as he turned a corner sharply, his trunk hitting the curb and opening at the force. Everything spilled out and Sirius caught his breath, stopping so quickly that he stumbled. He had two choices, as he turned to stare at the mess in front of him – leave everything behind or stay and most certainly get caught. He didn't have much time to get everything back in the trunk and, with a heavy heart, he started running.

He couldn't stop now.

_paper bags and angry voices  
__under a sky of dust  
__another wave of tension  
__has more than filled me up_

All of his clothes. His photographs. His two-way mirror that James shared the other half of. His broom. Everything was spread out in the street, papers and pictures blowing in the wind. But Sirius ran on. His parents would, no doubt, get it all back in the trunk. They couldn't dare risk a muggle stumbling across one of those things, magical items. It would cause too many problems with the Ministry and everything. Maybe he would be able to get it all back later, once his everything calmed down and he was, possibly, able to get the acceptance of his leaving from his parents.

Maybe.

More screams and shouts sounded as his parents rounded the corner as well and he could hear his dad swear as he saw the mess. "Sirius!" His mother screeched, but Sirius didn't stop. He turned another corner.

He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get as far away as possible before he could figure that out. He didn't have a place to go. He couldn't stay with family, they'd all just send him straight back to his parents. He couldn't go to the Leaky Cauldron, because the bartender would just send him back home. He couldn't go anywhere.

His friends.

The thought came to him as suddenly as the dead end in front of him did.

_all my talk of taking action  
__these words were never true_

"Shit," he muttered as he quickly backtracked and found his parents were right behind him, the mess he had made with his trunk already cleaned up and taken care of.

"Boy, you get back here," his dad howled, but Sirius plowed on.

He was running out of breath already, the fear and anxiety consuming him and taking all of his energy. All his years of Quidditch and working out seemed to escape him as he pushed through his exhaustion. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep running. He was already about to collapse and his parents weren't too far behind him. Luckily for him, they were much slower than he was, tired or not.

Turning another corner sharply, Sirius found himself stuck between a fence and the sound of his parents' footsteps. Stopping for a short moment and catching his breath, he made for the fence, getting a good foothold in one of the metal chains and leaping over it without falling, thankfully. He did, however stumble, slowing him down.

He felt the curse before it hit him.

_now I find myself in question  
__they point the finger at me again  
__guilty by association  
__you point the finger at me again_

He fell to the ground, gasping for breath. He could feel the blood pouring out from his leg from the wound the curse created. He didn't know what hit him, or which of his parents, but he knew he had to get up and keep going. His parents had slowed down, knowing that they had him trapped now. They still had to get over the gate.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius staggered to his feet and started to run, limping this time. Another curse hit him on the arm and he could practically feel his parents' frustration with him. But he couldn't give up, not when he was so close. Not when he had a destination in mind this time.

James' house was the closest. But even if it had been Remus', the boy had too much on his plate with the full moon just being two days ago and Sirius would never be able to put more pressure on him, showing up out of the blue like this. And Peter was on vacation. And these three were the only ones he could ever trust seeing him like this.

Gripping the wound in his left arm, Sirius limp-ran as fast as he could. He turned corner after corner, trying to make his way out of the neighborhood he had stumbled into and back out on the streets. From there, he was certain that he could make his way to James' house. He had to make it.

He was starting to lose his parents. They were falling further behind, too tired to run any longer, Sirius supposed. He could make it. He could do this.

He slowed his pace down as soon as he realized that he wasn't being followed any more. His vision was getting cloudy and his grip on his wand was loosening. He wasn't sure he could make it any further and when he reached an alley, he made for it. He didn't think about what sort of creeps or creepy things could be in there, he just needed a sanctuary, a place to rest for just a little bit. Collapsing on a pile of trash bags, Sirius passed out almost as soon as he hit the ground.

_i wanna run away, never say goodbye  
__i wanna know the truth, instead of wondering why  
__i wanna know the answers, no more lies  
__i wanna shut the door, and open up my mind_

As soon as he opened his eyes, he knew that he'd made a mistake in allowing himself to stop. He'd been so close to making it there, and now he couldn't even remember where he was. Staggering to his feet, he wobbled from the amount of blood he'd lost. He hadn't the energy to wrap his arm or leg before he'd passed out and now he could barely stand without falling over.

Pocketing his wand again, Sirius made his way out of the alley slowly and drowsily. He shouldn't have stopped, he shouldn't have stopped, was all he could think about as he continued on his way, looking around to make sure he was going the right way. In all honesty, though, he didn't have a clue as to where he was. He was at the point where he was just walking now and he wasn't sure he was going to make it any more.

All hope was slipping. Any faith he once had in his 'brilliant' plan was fading away. He was lost, no clue as to where he was. For all he knew, he could be one street away from his house and just making a big circle. But he staggered on, trying to keep at least a small shred of hope that he might make it. His eyes were drooping and he was sure that he was going to pass out again. He had to grip a wall to steady himself and as he reached the end of the wall before it curved, he swayed.

Bending over, he couldn't help but vomit a little. Maybe running away wasn't such a good idea.

Straightening up and turning the corner, Sirius nearly died with joy as he saw a familiar view. James' neighborhood.

_i'm gonna run away, and never say goodbye_

He could have skipped up to James' doorstep, had he not been so faint. What would have normally taken him forty seconds took him five minutes to get to the right house. But when he finally did, taking in the sight of that friendly, but dark, house, Sirius had never felt luckier or more joyous in his entire life. A small laugh slipped past his lips as he made his way up the walkway and towards the two steps leading up to the front porch and the front door.

It was the longest walk of his life. He didn't think he'd ever make it this far but as he finally made it to the door and slapped his now-bloody right hand on the doorbell, because he couldn't muster enough strength to knock loudly enough for someone in the house to hear him, he collapsed out of relief along with exhaustion.

_i'm gonna run away, and never wonder why_

He was fighting to stay awake as he leaned against the side of the house. His breathing was slow but deep and his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the second. He was falling asleep but he wouldn't allow it. He didn't want the Potters to find him passed out on their front step. It was embarrassing enough that he ran away to them like a young child in the first place. He had to stand up as the lights switched on in the living room and he heard voices from inside the house.

He thought he was struggling to his feet, but when the door opened he was in the same position.

"Oh my God," the warmest, kindest voice he could have ever heard reached his ears just as his eyes closed. Mrs. Potter.

_i'm gonna run away, and open up my mind_

When Sirius woke up again, hours later, he felt much better than he had ever felt before. The comfort of the couch cushions were much more relaxing and reassuring than the feel of trash bags with god knows what in them. A blanket was covering him and he could feel the bandages on his arm and leg. But amidst all of the comforting touches, it was the smell that got him the most.

While in his house you could smell the bitterness radiating off of the walls, in the Potter's house, you could always smell fresh cookies, muffins, bread or something. You could smell the warmth of the house and it was as if everything bad in your life just melted away. Inside of here, there was no war, was no evil, was no darkness. Sirius' thoughts of his parents and his despair over his brother immediately evaporated as soon as he caught a whiff of Mrs. Potter's freshly baked bread. Nothing could ever defeat the warmth and comfort of this house. It was the happiest place on earth for Sirius.

As soon as he opened his eyes and began to stir, he was immediately surrounded by people that he loved. Mr. and Mrs. Potter. James. They all stared at him with looks of concern and sincerity and confusion reflecting off all of their faces. But he didn't feel as if they were looking down upon him or as if they hated him for showing up at their doorstep instead of anyone else's. Sirius could tell, just by the looks on their faces, that they probably would have been insulted had he gone anywhere else.

"Are you alright?" Was the first question out of Mr. Potter's mouth as Sirius sat up on the couch.

"Yes," he responded with, biting his lip. "Thank you," he added, not needing to say anything more.

Mrs. Potter smiled warmly at him. "You've run away?" She asked, although she knew the answer. She understood, though, and Sirius felt any shame in his actions slip away just by the sound of her voice.

"Yes."

"Good boy," James muttered, trying to both comfort his friend and lighten the mood at the same time. For years they'd talked about Sirius running away, always as a joke. Sirius would come and stay with James, that'd be the plan. And Mr. Potter would fight with Mr. Black for custody of Sirius and he'd become a real Potter. Always a joke.

And here he was. Newly run away and in the Potter's home.

Home.

The four of them laughed, although none of them really knew why.

_i wanna run away, and open up my mind_

* * *

So there you have it. That's Running Numb for you. I'm kind of upset with the ending because it really didn't work out the way I wanted to, so I might have to edit that later, because it's super late and I have to get up in like six hours. So I apologize for the suckiness, and I'll let you all know if I change it.

Thanks a ton to all my reviewers. I love you guys. You really motivated me to write this and I really appreciate everything you've said. -tears up- I love you so much that I am going to have a new story coming up sometime that is all about some good old fashioned Sirius Black/OC loving. Because as much as I hate to love it, I kind of do love it. And I had an idea and if it works out the way I want, I hope to have it up by next week, as well as an update on Still Here.

I love you guys. :


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